Fancying Denial
by steelgray
Summary: Albus Potter and Annalea Trotsky. From the cold, aloof Albus, to the sweet, bullied and shy Annalea, they learn how to like *ahem* tolerate one another. Through Quidditch, duels, sneaking out, and Balls, only one thing is for sure...Annalea and Albus are sworn enemies. "Locomotor Mortis! What did I ever do to you?" "Obscuro! Everything! You should have just left me alone!"
1. Blunt, Potter(s)?

**I'm utterly in love with Albus/OC, because there's really no one to fit his personality, one that I have exaggerated a bit here, but I realllllllly, really love a slightly dark Albus. Just like a dark chocolate. Now, both of those together...Bad writer! Stop that! *Bangs head on end table* 'Tis wonderful.**

**Now that I have enamored you with my chocolate eating tendancies, I really hope that you'll all like this story and review it to tell me so, because I am an insecure teenage girl.**

**Sorry.**

**ENJOY!**

**P.S., Obviously, none of this is mine, so I'm going to go cry in a corner and all that jazz.**

* * *

"Watch where you're going, freak!"

The familiar words no longer fazed me, but it was hard to contain the rage I felt against Trianna Rookson, resident evil.

I turned my back on her, looking for an empty compartment, brightly sneakered feet falling on the train floor with a thump, thump.

"Look at her," mocked Ivy Grayson, Trianna's loyal tagalong, "moping like always. No wonder she doesn't have any friends. Boo hoo hoo."

I bit back the retort that I wanted so badly to say. Just two more years, I reminded myself. I was almost done (hopefully) with the likes of Trianna and Ivy.

Suddenly, I felt myself trip over someone else's foot, falling forward, crashing to the ground, putting more rips into my already hole ridden jeans and scraping my hands.

Silently, I picked myself up, willing my injuries to disappear as the girls behind me laughed.

I rushed away as fast as I could, mad at myself for not doing it sooner. Why had I stuck around? It wasn't like I had been even remotely welcome.

Finally, I found a blessedly empty compartment in the middle of the train that had been overlooked by the hoardes of students. Sliding open the doors, I set down the purse and book I'd brought along on the seat beside me.

Settling into the comfy red seats, I snuggled in to read A Potion Maker's Perfection.

One of the few pros of being a social outcast was that people avoided you like the plague, leading to empty tables, chairs, and compartments, all to yourself.

As I was fairly early, we didn't move for a long time. I looked up in surprise when I heard thundering footsteps coming towards me. The door snapped open and, to my surprise, the Potters peeked through.

They looked exhausted. Faintly, I heard the sound of the horn. They must've just made it in time.

"Do you mind us sitting here?" asked James, who was known as the popular, roudier one.

I looked at him in shock. "Um, sure," I managed to stutter out.

The three Potters filtered in, Albus and James leading their younger sister Lily, who looked at me curiously.

"Hi," she said, "who are you?"

I swallowed. "Annalea. Annalea Trotsky."

"I'm Lily," she says, smiling, red hair poker straight and falling into her face. "Nice to meet you."

I nod, albeit curtly, and her face falls, just a little. I try not to feel bad about it. She wouldn't like me if she knew who I was anyways. No one did.

Nevertheless, I being the only female and not a part of her family, she sits beside me, and I move over to make room for her.

She pulls out a small bottle of gold nail polish and begins to paint her fingernails, glancing up at me and smiling every so often.

I liked this girl. She seemed rather shy for a famous Potter, but then again, the boys sitting across from us had also stayed quiet, Albus staring out the window and James poking his way through a box of Bertie Bott's, grimacing comically whenever he came across a bad one.

I settled back into my reading, feeling uncomfortable with the entire situation. The words on the page blurred together and, in vain, I tried to read on. This wasn't right. Sighing, I set the book down. Even I knew that the Potters should've been in the back of the train, the boys snogging Trianna and Ivy or some rubbish like that.

I cleared my throat, addressing the boys, who I hadn't spoken to yet.

"I'm Annalea," I said, feeling rather foolish, "Nice to meet you."

Lily Potter smiled encouragingly at me, as if she was happy that I was taking initiative to talk to them, which I knew was nonsense, as she didn't know me.

The eldest Potter smiled at me, a full blown, goofy grin. "Ah," he teased, "she speaks!"

"I speak!" I protest, frowning at him, but not as annoyed as I should've been.

"Right," he snorts, "that's why we," he indicates his siblings with a careless flick of his wand, causing me to flinch away, "didn't know you even existed until, say, an hour ago!"

"Oh, my self esteem," I mock sarcastically, "that hurt, Potter."

He looks at me disbelievingly, like he doesn't understand what happened. That I had made fun of him.

I quiet immediately, realizing my faux pas, expecting the worst, I suppose. What I didn't expect was what happened next.

It started with Lily's soft little giggle, then Albus' short snorts of laughter, finally escalating into James' hearty boom.

"That...was...brilliant!" Lily gasps out between giggles, "your...face...James..."

I stare between the three of them, not quite sure whether or not I've caused hysterics of hilarity or anger.

Lily turns to me, face bright red, eyes watering with tears, but a huge smile on her face. "I like you, Annalea. We're going to be good friends."

I smile back uncertainly. When had I said that I wanted to be friends? "Al-Alright?"

She laughs again, placing a welcoming, gold cloaked arm around my shoulders.

"Definitely."

I couldn't remember the last time that I'd been treated as an equal. No sniggering, no harm, no foul. It was too abnormal. I choked back a sob, disguising it as a cough. This wasn't the time, nor the place to tear up.

Unfortunately, Lily Potter was too observant to miss my smothered cry.

"What's wrong?" she asked, bewilderment clear on her pretty face.

"Nothing," I smiled, unconvincingly.

Looking at me carefully, she pulled a Honeydukes chocolate bar from her purse, handing it to me. "Annalea. The first part of a friendship is to tell me when things go wrong."

I looked down at the chocolate bar, inspecting the silver wrapping, proclaiming the chocolate "Honeydukes Finest Fruit & Nut Milk Chocolate". One of my favorites.

I still have absolutely no idea what possessed me to tell Lily, whom I'd only just met, about all of my emotional baggage. Even her brothers had sobered immediately, looking at me expectantly, frowning at the tears rimming my eyes, threatening to spill with every word I uttered.

I bit into the chocolate bar. "I was considered a pretty normal kid. Half-blood, smiley, the works. I had even been best friends with Trianna and Ivy."

They looked at me in astonishment, expressions disgusted. So they did know who Trianna and Ivy were.

"That all changed in third year, when my mother died."

I heard Lily's audible gasp, this revelation had not been what she was expecting. I plowed on. I had started this, and now I had to finish it.

"My mother was tortured and murdered by the very last uncaptured Death Eater known as..."

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Albus met my eyes, the stare steeling up my resolve to finish this.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," I confirmed, "They found my mum three days later in an abandoned cottage in Berlin, dead, and for what?" I uttered a short, hollow bark of a laugh, "being a muggleborn, is all."

"At that point," I stared down at my feet, "Trianna and Ivy had already begun to change for the worse. I'd been feeling disconnected from them even before my mother died. It was like they were in on some secret joke that I couldn't understand. So when I became closed off and melancholy, they embraced the excuse to finally be rid of me." My voice cracked, and Lily placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, to which I nodded my thanks.

"And that also began the time where I had no friends besides my books."

I glanced up at them sharply, hoping that I hadn't given them the wrong implication that they had to befriend the freak. "I'm not looking for your sympathy. I'm not even looking for your friendship. Just don't...don't fake it, alright?"

Lily's face was milk white, the suppressed rage evident on her face. "I'm going to kill them," she mutters. "How could they do this to you? I'm going to kill them!"

I smiled wryly, "Didn't know if you realized this, Lily, but you aren't much use to me in an Azkaban jail cell."

James and Albus exchanged the murderous look I had now become familiar with. I groaned.

"Just let it alone. It's how it's always been, and nothing's changing anytime soon."

"What do you want to bet, Annalea?" Albus glared at me, "how can you be this nonchalant about someone ruining your life?"

Before I can protest this injustice, the compartment door slams open, and James peeks his head back in, only momentarily, "We're fixing this, Annalea. Whether you like it or not, right now." And his siblings follow him out.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" I groan, "why do I do this to myself?"

Sighing, I stood up, glancing sorrowfully at my book before rushing off to find the Potters.

It turned out that they hadn't gone far. Apparently, Trianna and Ivy were a only a mere car over.

Before I could stop her, Lily had already slid the girls' compartment door open, striding in purposefully, all traces of the 'shy Lily' gone. This was the 'I-Mean-Business' Lily. Quite frankly, she was rather terrifying.

I hear Trianna's carrying voice before I see her.

"Lily, darling! It's been so long! How was your summer, doll?"

"Just fine, thank you, Trianna." Lily's voice is pleasant, cold, and just barely conveys irritation.

I crept closer, right behind James, effectively hiding my presence, who reaches back inconspicuously to give my hand a reassuring squeeze.

I smile gratefully, even though he can't see it, and squeeze back.

"James, Albus! How nice that you two decided to stop by!"

"Grayson," Albus acknowledges Ivy. "I've something to talk to the two of you about."

"And what would that be, Al?" Trianna asks coyly, shortening his name in a simpering manner.

Albus is blunt, if anything. "Annalea Trotsky. I believe that you three are acquainted?"

"Trotsky? That freak?" Ivy's voice is riddled with surprise and contempt, "what about her?"

"So you are acquainted, lovely," Albus says, disgust evident in his voice. "First of all, she isn't a freak." Trianna and Ivy gasp as if this is completely ridiculous, "She's actually a rather lovely girl."

"Surely you're joking!" Ivy laughs, "Right? You wouldn't associate with the likes of Annalea Trotsky. In fact," now she was just laying it on thick, "I didn't think that you even knew her name."

"Not at all joking, Grayson," was his cool reply. "And now I think that you had both better listen to me, and listen to me well, because I do know Anna."

His voice had taken on a cold steel unlike anything I'd ever heard before. I shivered, feeling the effect that wasn't even directed at me.

I looked around James' broad back. The compartment was chock full of magazines, makeup, and candy, all claiming to be non-fattening. Albus was standing in front of the two frightened looking girls, anger emanating from every inch of his tall frame, tense.

It was terrifying.

"You," his voice was hard, "will not, under any circumstances, talk to, look at, degrade, make derogatory comments about, or do anything to hurt Annalea Trotsky, and if you do," he stepped closer, and they shrieked, stepping back in fright, "You. Will. Pay."

"And as of right now," he added, "you will rectify every single wrong done by her. Do. You. Understand?"

They nodded quickly, breaths coming short and fast. Albus pegged them with one last glare before spinning abruptly on his heel and sliding past James out of the compartment. Lily followed him out, and James and I followed, revealing my hidden form to them.

They didn't say one word.

It was an exhilarating, heady feeling. I felt dizzy, drunk with the power my tormentors had deprived me of for so long. And I had let them. The whole problem, the whole affair, suddenly seemed so simple. I wondered what would've happened if I...

No. I would not, could not, think about the 'what ifs'. I valued my sanity too much.

When we got back to my compartment, Albus gave me an even look as if to say, 'done'.

I smiled at him, a quick, little one, breathless with the joy that I'd found.

Lily grinned at him, "you were brilliant, Al."

"I do what I can," he nods, a bit modestly, pink colouring in his pale cheeks.

We settle into pleasant, soft conversation, Lily leading it. Our mission had seemed to bolster her confidence, and she spoke rapidly, waving her hands in the air in a way that made me cringe.

"And so, James had this wild antelope mad, and then the antelope..."

"That's quite enough, Lils!" James said, blushing to the roots of his hair.

Lily gave me the silent look that signified 'I'll tell you later' and I grinned foolishly. There was to be a later, I hoped.

The Potters were an alright lot.

Before long, the conductor told us that it was nearly time to leave, and Lily's brothers left to give us a bit of privacy to change into our robes. When we'd finished and the train had stopped, we walked the short way to the thestrals waiting and piled into a carriage. It wasn't surprising to any of us that we could all see the thestrals; what with their family name and what I'd revealed earlier.

But none of us chose to comment on the fact, instead quieting as we surveyed our marvelous grounds.

"Beautiful," I finally managed. "Simply beautiful."

The others all nodded along in agreement, seeming as happy as I was to be home.

* * *

**So, what did you think? Drop me a review if you want me to continue this story! Any feedback and/or more ideas for this plot would be GREAT, because at this point they are sadly lacking and I don't want this to be a fluffy story because I'm too Capricorn for that.**

**Yeah. Help, please?**

**You could also drop me a note about any grammar/spelling errors. I am a grammar/spelling Nazi. NO, not a German. Jeez, stop assuming! -_-**

**If anyone cares, I'm Dutch (If you aren't, you aren't much) and Taiwanese.**

**I love you all!**

**Steelgray**


	2. Distracted Dueling

We finally settled into the feast after an always-exciting Sorting. James talked through a mouthful of grilled chicken on pita, arguing with Albus about Quidditch.

"But Chaser is clearly the most important position!" James says, "There wouldn't be any Quidditch without it!"

"And the game would never end," Albus retorts, popping a forkful of shepard's pie into his mouth, arm propped up on the table.

I'd always wanted to play Quidditch, but had never tried out because of Trianna and Ivy. I did play over the summers and when the teams weren't.

"He has a point," I agree. Lily rolls her eyes at the three of us, clearly not into the Quidditch scene. "Speaking of Quidditch, are you in need of any players?"

James sizes me up. "Who wants to know, Annalea?"

Taking a deep breath, "I do."

He gapes at me in apparent shock until Lily knocks him upside the head with an empty plate. I try not to let it get to me or weaken my resolve. This was important.

"Just...well...Daphne graduated last year...and so did Steve Hutchins...so we need a Chaser and a Beater," he says, massaging his head and glaring at Lily.

I attempt breeziness. "Well, I'm not a Beater, but I might be interested in Chaser." I nodded toward the both of them, who co-captained the team, "I'll be at tryouts."

Clearly uncomfortable, as they'd never seen me play and not wanting to hurt my feelings, they nod.

I make a little vow to myself then. I will make the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

We settle easily into comfortable conversation after that. Finally, sleepily, we begin to make our way up to the Gryffindor common rooms.

"Wait a second," Lily says, pulling us back, "There's Lysander and Lorcan! We're going to say hi!"

I tried to slink away from Lily, who had my arm in a death grip, as if sensing my fear.

"Lysander! Lorcan!" She calls, and the two blonde boys look back at us, smiling with identical dimples.

"Lily!" they say, shuffling towards us. "How are you?"

"Great!" she smiles at them. "Lorcan, Lysander, this is my friend," her grip tightens yet again, "Annalea. Annalea, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander."

I smile awkwardly at them. "Hi."

To my absolute surprise, they grin at me, and Lorcan(?) glances at Lily, saying, "nice choice Lils. She's cool."

My brow comes together, how would they know?

"That's what I thought when I met her," Lily says. "Glad that I was right."

Cheeks red like fire, I start blushing, "Stop. I'm standing right here!"

"That you are," James says cheekily, gesturing over to more people.

During the next half hour, the Potters, Weasleys and Lovegoods were all introduced to me in a way that made my head spin, unable to remember any of their names.

I couldn't even begin to comprehend what had occurred in the course of the last few hours. I had gotten my revenge against Trianna and Ivy. The Potters, famous, well-liked, had become my friends. In doing that, I gained a whole host of Weasley and Lovegood friends as well, who were all equally as lovely and kind.

What had happened to me?

I unpacked my things later that night, pondering the idea, but couldn't seem to come up with any kind of plausible answer.

And when I'd finally finished unpacking and was laying in my bed, I still didn't know how this insane kindness of circumstances had been done to me.

The next morning, Lily rudely bounded up to my dormitory to wake me up, jumping up and down on my bed while I cowered under the covers, cursing Potters worldwide.

Trianna and Ivy, who shared the room with, groaned and glared at me, but didn't make a sound.

"Annalea!"

Pause.

"Annalea!"

And it went on like this until I couldn't bear it any further, grabbing my wand and pointing it at her throat. "Silencio," I growled.

She gave me such a wounded, kicked-puppy look that I hastily undid the spell, feeling guilty. Why was I, of all people, in Gryffindor again?

"Sorry," I say, "you're annoying."

Sticking her tongue out at me, she whines, proving my point. "I'm hungry! Let's go eat!"

I look down at my pajamas, a flannel set with puppies scattered over them. "In this?"

She snorts, "Of course not. Go shower, I'll find you some clothes."

I nod, picking up my towel, consenting to let her get my uniform for me.

When I got out and pulled on my customary black pleated skirt, white button up, white tights and black robes, something just wasn't quite right.

Everything fit perfectly fine, except for...

"Annalea!" Lily laughed, "did you buy new skirts this year?"

"No," I said helplessly, "I thought that they would still fit!"

My skirt was a full three inches too short. "I look like...like a slag!"

"Isn't that true," I hear Trianna's grumpy voice, obviously feeling braver in private.

"Shut it," I growl, hearing her surprised gasp as I glare at her.

Ah, this was why I was a Gryffindor.

"It's really not that bad," Lily says consolingly. "Besides," she reasons, "all the girls wear their skirts up a little unless they're total prudes."

I flush. Me.

Lily grins, as if hearing my thought process. "It's fine, really. Actually looks really..."

"Don't!" I say, "don't even think about saying that word!"

"Hot," she finishes, smirking at me.

"That's it," I say, "I'm going to classes in my pajamas."

Obviously having decided that further argument was futile, she laughs at my...prudishness and says, "We'll get you some new skirts after classes. Promise."

"How?" I ask skeptically, "we aren't allowed to leave the castle, and there's no way that we can order them and have them here by tomorrow."

"I'm a Potter," she grins, "I was practically born to be a rule-breaker."

I roll my eyes, finally submitting. "Let's go."

And we did, after Lily and I struggled for a half hour and she finally confiscated my robes so I couldn't wear them over my short skirt all day.

We finally sat down to breakfast, both in less than happy moods. James, Albus, and the rest all observed this.

"Rough morning?" James asks.

"You have no idea," Lily groans, while I shrugged indifferently. She had been the one that had made it hard on herself, not me.

I pulled at my skirt again, feeling thoroughly exposed as I nibbled at my Belgian waffles, thick with cream and strawberries and maple syrup.

"You know," James winks at me, "It's much more noticeable when you keep pulling it down."

I gape at Lily, "Traitor!"

She sits up primly, "I did what I had to do."

Before the two of us can argue any further, Rose(?) Weasley comes up to us, flipping her long brown tangles of hair over her shoulder.

"Your skirt's too short, Annalea," she says bluntly, bossily, buck teeth prominent against her freckled face. "A full three inches above regulation, in fact."

Lily frowns at her. "And good morning to you as well, Rose."

"And your shoelaces are untied, but I was too polite to say so," I retort, hoping that she'd trip.

She glares at me, hastily leaning down to tie them.

"Don't mind her," Rose's brother Hugo said, big, blue orbs of eyes looking at me, mouth grinning, "Rose's always a grouch in the morning. Your skirt is fine, Anna."

"Thanks," I smiled back, still feeling the bruise of a wounded ego, remedied a little by my nickname.

We continued eating as Rose sat down with a huff, pulling a blueberry pancake toward herself, nibbling on it moodily.

After receiving our schedules, our group disperses quickly to find our new classes.

Upon prodding out of Albus that he was indeed going to Greenhouse Six, the two of us walk there together, even though I'm practically panting to try and keep up with his long strides.

I glance over at him, trying not to be caught ogling. He's tall, body muscular but thin. He's the look of a superb seeker about him, with his alert, watchful green eyes that take in his surroundings quickly and efficiently. He looks so guarded, so private, so...serious. He brushes his untidy black curls out his eyes, with a long, straight nose, high, chiseled cheekbones, and sharp features becoming more prominent.

He had the look of a steel-faced warrior. Proud, unafraid.

And everyone notices it. Albus is almost the complete opposite of his jolly, joking older brother.

The other guys look at him, almost scared, constantly wary, giving him deferential, cautious treatment, like he was a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

Maybe he was.

It was so hard to imagine him, fancy him, a happy person. He wasn't.

The girls notice it too. I've never subscribed to the thought that a girl can change a guy, because we clearly can't. No one can change another person against their will. Anyone who thought otherwise was simply deluding themselves, just like these girls. They giggled incessantly when he walked by, nudging and whispering among themselves about smiles that he'd surely given them.

Bullocks.

I'd barely known Albus Potter a day, but even I knew that this tactic wouldn't work.

Hell, I didn't know if anything would work on the thrice-named Witch Weekly's most eligible teenage bachelor.

This made sense, at least. The Potters were known for being a very close-knit, private family with few friends, though they were said to be friendly people as a whole.

And yet, they'd befriended me so undeniably easily.

Before long, we've arrived at the greenhouse, and Professor Longbottom walked in, giving Albus an almost cheeky wink, to which Albus inclines his head, just slightly.

Stupid Ice Prince.

I'd always liked Professor Longbottom, who was an understanding man, and as he made his way to the front of the room, clasping his big hands together, we all gave him our full attention.

"Our first class of the year! Today, we're going to get this class sizzling with a Fire-Breathing Fern!"

Not fancying the thought of being burnt to an Anna-crisp, I groan, disguising it as a loud cough.

"Can any of you tell me anything about it?" Professor Longbottom continued on. His twinkling brown eyes fell on me. "What about you, Miss Trotsky?"

I hated the attention, but I complied with the Professor's request anyway.

"The Fire Breathing Fern is well known as one of the most vicious plants worldwide," I recited, voice droning without expression. "It has brown pods that shoot the fire, and it spurts uncontrollably at random intervals, especially so when it feels threatened. The brown, fuzzy body of the plant is inflammable, protecting it, essentially, from itself. The most important part of the plant are the seeds around the pods. It is a prime ingredient in the Floroture Potion, the most popular cure for pixie scratches."

"Very good, Miss Trotsky!" Longbottom says, "Ten points to Gryffindor for your detailed explanation."

"Right then," he continues. "I want all of you to pair up and get the seeds around the Fern's pods. Wear your safety gear. You must figure out how to get the seeds on your own. Any," his kind eyes go razor-sharp, "fooling around will result in your removal from this class. Am I clear?"

We nod and he smiles, clasping his hands together again, excitement transparent on his face, "Off to it then!"

I looked around the room. It was as it had always been. Everyone had their own friends and had paired up almost immediately.

I sighed, another project that I had to finish..alone. Id didn't even get a break on the first day back.

"Albus," Professor Longbottom speaks, glancing at me. I know where this is headed. "would you work with Miss Trotsky? She doesn't bite, at least I don't believe that she does."

My cheeks burn. "Professor, I'm perfectly fine alone, sir."

"Nonsense," he brushes my reply away with a wave of his hand, "I want to see what my best students of the year can do...together."

I blush at the praise, and Albus nods, stone-faced as always, and moves over to my worktable, plant sitting between the two of us.

The ugly fern finally breaks the awkward silence as Professor Longbottom walks away, spitting out a single green-tinted flame, singing the edge of my empty parchment.

"I'll get the seeds if you keep the plant from burning me to a crisp," I finally say.

He nods curtly, pulling on his gloves, an expensive pair made in an almost shimmery royal blue.

Bloody rich bloke.

I keep my own off, as getting the delicate seeds will be hard enough without more help from my bulky gloves.

Ready when you are," I say.

Another nod. This guy has a special kind of social ineptitude.

We dive into the project.

It turned out that this particular fern had been kept until sixth year for a reason. It really liked having each and every single one of its seeds. I brushed my hair out of my eyes, wincing at the feel of my burnt fingers, red and raw.

I couldn't Albus for my burns though. He'd managed to keep me from being burnt for my recklessness. He'd jerked me away with lightning fast reflexes whenever I would linger just a bit too long.

We didn't speak much, save for a few "careful"s and "ouch"s and "bloody hell!"s

I did gawk at him a little more than I should have though, and it didn't escape his attention.

"If you could stop staring, Trotsky, maybe you'd be a bit less burnt."

"I'm not staring," was my immediate response as we danced around the plant. "You're just," Beautiful. "A perplexing individual."

I'd obviously peaked his internal curiosity. "How, pray tell?"

"First off, you've only known me for one day."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," he says sarcastically, "what else, is the sky blue?"

"More white than blue today," I reply cheekily to his open condensation, "it's about to rain."

"As I was saying," I dodged another flame, "you've known me a day, and you've defended me against Trianna and Ivy both."

"It was what anyone would have done," he shrugs.

I duck down to the floor, flames reaching for my face. "Wrong! Why has this been going on for three years then?"

"Because you're cowardly."

I turn to him in shock. The plant is dead set on assassinating me, shot another wicked flame, hitting my cheek.

I want to crawl onto the floor and die. Nausea hits me hard, and palpable anger blurs my vision. "AGUAMENTI!" I rage blindly at the offending plant, drenching every inch of it, and I meet Albus' eyes yet again, fury intensifying my gaze.

Longbottom runs over. "Congratulations, Miss Trotsky! By drenching the plant, it can no longer produce fire, much like the common tree. Thirty points to," he pauses as I run past him, the pain in my face unbearable. "Hospital Wing, Miss Trotsky!" he finishes, but I'm way ahead of him.

I skied down hallways, running to the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey, bless her, doesn't disappoint, rushes off to find a potion for my burnt skin.

Apparently, this fire is worse for you than normal fire, because after three (disgusting) potions, a thick salve, gauze and tape later, she was still reluctant to release me, blathering on about incompetent teachers and "rest".

I finally escape the over-concerned nurse, running to make my next class on time as I've already missed Diviniation. Shame (not).

To my dismay, History of Magic is completely full, save for a seat next to, you guessed it, Albus Potter, git extraordinaire.

I hate my life.

I slunk towards the seat beside him, looking a sight. Wild eyed, panting, face and hands wrapped in thick white gauze. Slumping into the seat beside him, I pulled out my chair as far away as possible. Who was he to call me a coward? He didn't know me!

"I don't."

I clasped a hand over my mouth. Had I said that out loud?

"Yeah. You did."

I ignored him, opening up my textbook and pulling out my quill, ink and parchment. Listening to Binns' drone on about the Goblin War of 1854, I took copious notes and tried fervently to ignore the tall Potter beside me, who also took notes in a slim, calligraphy-like cursive stroke.

On creamy white parchment.

With an eagle feather quill.

And blue-black ink.

I admit it, I hadn't succeeded in ignoring him quite as successfully as I would have hoped, but he was just so...

No, Annalea. Not pretty, gorgeous, handsome, beautiful, or any other variants of those words.

I couldn't understand it. Guys usually had no effect on me, whatsoever. I was usually the most asexual girl you'd ever meet. But that changed, starting with...

Albus Potter.

I suppose that there was always the thought that he'd "saved" me. I didn't think that it was that. But whatever it was, it needed to stop.

Now.

Right about now.

Yeah.

The end of the hour couldn't come quickly enough. When it was over, I gathered my things at breakneck speed, standing up and tangling my foot with a chair leg.

Going down to the floor with a small "eep"!, I was surprised when a sturdy hand jerked me back up again just before I hit the ground.

I looked upon the face of a blonde Ravenclaw boy, who gave me a little smile.

"Thanks," I said a bit breathlessly, straightening up. He gave me a charming little wink, and walked away, calling behind him a quick, "No problem."

At this point, Albus had pushed rather unceremoniously past me, striding quickly out of the room.

By lunchtime, I was already exhausted.

Slumping into a chair beside Lily, I grabbed an apple rather limply and stared at it, eyes flickering between closed and open.

"You look like you were hit with a Beater's bat," Lily states.

Blunt as always. Predictable Potters.

"Gee, thanks," I mutter. "Should have gotten more sleep."

"At least you don't have O.W.L.'s this year."

"N.E.W.T's are next year!"

She shrugs, pulling apart a piece of cheese toast. "James has them this year."

"Wut 'bout 'e?" James asks, head shooting up and mouth full of sandwich.

Lily rolls her eyes. "Nothing."

"Oh 'eah," James says, "Ann'lea, tryouts 're at five tom'orrow. You goin'?"

I nod. "I'll be ready."

After we break from lunch, I have Charms, followed by Transfiguration, and finally Defense Against the Dark Arts.

And who better to be in my class than Albus Potter? Again.

Professor Gold is a no-nonsense teacher. She sends us out to die as soon as we walk into the classroom.

"Dueling," she snaps, glaring at us with her signature Avada Kedavra glare. "Don't kill each other."

"Pairs! Finn, Shelby."

"Dargus, Belby."

"Zabini, Hertin."

"Marks, Purdue."

"Little, Revin."

"Potter, Trotsky."

The universe hated me. There was no way that this was just coincidence. First Herbology, then History of Magic, and now Defense Against the Dark Arts. What was going on?

"Trotsky!" Gold barks at me, "Snap to! Dueling stance, now!"

She made me want to off myself. I hated teachers like her with a burning passion. They didn't care if you had straight O's, they would still yell at you for the littlest things.

I take my stance, and Potter regards me calmly, coolly. I briefly wonder if I will actually die in this duel.

"Begin."

"Expelliarmus!" I spin into action, ducking away from the blast of green light that misses my surprised form by mere inches.

I throw up a shield charm, not even thinking about it. "Protego!"

He comes at me, breaking his stance and grabbing for my leg, trying to knock me off of my feet.

I roll out of the way, "What's up with you, Potter? Rig this again?"

I've thrown him off, I can tell. "What are you talking about, Trotsky?"

"Don't mess with me," I spit, swiping at his exposed legs, which he evades with a quick hop, "You're everywhere! Herbology, History, here...pay off all the teachers so that you can torture me?"

"Nonsense," he says. "Glastia!" The explosion sends me backwards and I have to flip off of the wall to avoid breaking my back.

"Avis Oppugno!"

He dodged the group of bluebirds as they tried to peck at him. Gasping, he shoots a bat-bogey hex at me.

I sink into the splits to avoid the spell, dimly aware of the stares we were receiving. "Confringo!"

I heard shrieks as a desk burst into flames. Rolling my eyes, I cried, "Aguamenti!"

"Densaugeo!"

"Alarte Ascendare!"

This spell hit me, and I shrieked before gathering my wits and crying, "Aresto Momentum!"

"Anteoculatia!"

We edged closer and closer to one another, tripping, kicking, and punching in between spells. I knew that I'd sprained my ankle, and Potter sported a nasty purplish bruise.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Act, react. I was running on adrenaline overdrive, dodging Potter as he got increasingly angry at his inability to win.

"Thought that you'd win easily against such a coward as me, huh? Langlock!"

"Baubillius! What the hell's your problem?"

"Diffindo!"

"Bombarda Maxima!"

I crashed to the floor as the entire wall behind me was blown to smithereens. Why wasn't Professor Gold stopping this?

I had no time to dwell on it, however, and quickly reciprocated. "Confundus! You're my problem, dolt!"

"Calvario!"

"Cantis!"

I couldn't stop, "I'm a little tttteeeeeeaaaapot, short and stout," from coming out of my mouth, but I could cast nonverbal spells! Suck an acid pop, Potter!

"Rictumsempra!"

"Locomotor Mortis! What did I ever do to you?"

"Obscuro! Everything! You should have just left me alone!"

"Serpensortia! I don't know how you think you're going to win by saying all this crap, but it's not working Trotsky!"

"Crap? Why you, Carpe Retractum!"

The spell sent him soaring towards me. I was fuming. How dare this boy make fun of me? I couldn't even begin to understand him and his motivations, why he spoke in such a way as to always grate my nerves raw. So I did the only thing conceivable at that moment.

I kissed him.

* * *

**This is where the story actually starts. Drop me a review if you liked/disliked it. Thanks,**

**Brenda**


	3. Nimbus, Anyone?

He reacted almost instantaneously, kissing me back with passion and nearly knocking me off my feet.

My brain was a muddled mess about to dissolve into a puddle. What was I doing? What was he doing? Why was this happening?

His soft lips pressed hungrily against my own, and he bit down on my bottom lip, our bodies pressed together, his the only thing holding my form up, my ankle and my lips both on fire.

"Annalea..." he murmured, snapping me back to reality.

Forcefully, I pressed my wand to his chest, pulling away. "Don't even think about it. It was a distraction, and you fell for it. Locomotor Mortis."

And he freezes in place.

I finally look up, aware of my heavy panting, flushed face and the stares that I was attracting. "What?" I ask, "I read a lot of textbooks!"

Finally, I looked up and met Professor Gold's shocked eyes.

"Professor?" I ask.

"Miss Trotsky, Mr. Potter," she says dazedly, "Fifty points to Gryffindor. You may also sit out the next round of dueling and begin on your homework."

We both gape at her, and I wondered if my Confundus charm had somehow hit her.

"Well, go off to it then!" She snaps, old vigor in her voice. She silently performs the countercurse on Albus, sloppily and very nearly missing him.

We nod, and I limp to go and sit down at my table, still in shock. I had kissed Albus Potter. I had kissed him, and he had kissed me back.

My first kiss, now known as a distraction tactic. I had wasted, literally wasted, my first kiss. What a story to tell the grandchildren.

What grandchildren? I was right on track to becoming an old spinster.

My eyes burned with water. I would not cry. Would. Not. Cry.

The end of the hour couldn't come quickly enough. I limped out of the classroom to first go to the Hospital Wing for my ankle, which Pomfrey sternly told me to go easy on after giving me yet another potion, knowing that I wouldn't.

Then I searched for Lily. She'd promised me new skirts, and I needed to take my mind off of Albus. I could only hope that she hadn't heard about it yet.

Sure enough, I found her up in our dorm, holding a silvery looking cloak and in regular muggle clothing.

"Lils!" I said, grinning at her and dropping my bag to the floor. "Skirts?"

"Better than that," she says, grinning. "Shopping spree!"

"As long as we're buying skirts, I don't care about anything else."

"One track mind, I see," she replies. "Change into your muggle clothes, it'll make us less conspicuous."

I changed into a red top and blue skinny jeans, coupled with my black boots and black leather jacket.

"What's that?" I finally ask her about the unusual cloak she holds.

"Invisibility cloak. Been in the family for generations."

We both climbed under it.

We walked for a long time in silence, finally reaching an empty corridor with a statue of a woman with one eye.

Lily approached the statue and whispered, "Dissendium."

The statue opened up, to my great surprise, and we climbed into the dark tunnel.

"Lumos," I said, illuminating the dark place. "Where does this lead to?"

"Honeydukes cellar."

"Do you do this often?"

"I usually go with my brothers."

We trudge on.

Lily eventually clears her throat. "I heard an interesting rumor today."

I gulp. "About what?" I keep care to not let my voice stutter, and continue walking in front of her, pulse speeding up.

"Nothing important, really," Lily says breezily, "It was just something about you and Albus."

"Fancy that," I say, "he's in nearly all of my classes."

"Yeah. Do you want to know what they were saying?"

"Why not?" I knew that she'd tell me anyway.

"It was just that," she hops over a small boulder, "you were snogging in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Who told you that?" I bark a little laugh. How...true. I stopped.

"All the girls in that class, who tried to slaughter me for not telling them that Al was taken."

Her voice is a little bitter. Uh-oh.

"Is this true, Annalea?"

I gulp. To lie to my only friend would be suicide, and to not lie would probably also be suicide.

"You did, didn't you, Anna?"

"It was strictly a distraction tactic!"

"Ann-"

"We were dueling and he was trying to kill me!"

"I highly doubt-"

"I wasn't thinking straight, okay! Professor Gold-"

"Annalea Trotsky!"

Oops. I gulped. "Yeah, Lily?"

"It's fine."

"Really?"

"What do I care if you snogged my brother?"

"I thought that you would. I mean, I would if my sibling was in that sort of position, which is nonsense because I don't have any siblings but I think-"

"Anna."

"Sorry."

"And you didn't mean anything by it?"

"I wasn't thinking straight. We were dueling! Your brother is vicious!"

"With what part, the snogging or the dueling?"

"The dueling!"

"Sure. But did he kiss you back?"

"Well, he did before I jinxed him."

"Annalea!"

"I had to! I had to disguise the fact that I actually-"

I knew my rambling would get the better of me.

"You actually what?"

"Nothing."

"Annalea."

"Nothing."

"Anna!"

"You need to stop yelling, Lily."

"I swear, I'll tell that old cow Skeeter that you were kissing my brother."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

"Fine, fine, okay! That I actually liked it! Are you bloody happy now?"

"Very. A bit disgusted, but happy nonetheless. I was pondering my dear brother's sexuality there for a couple of years. Is he a good kisser?"

"Lily!"

Pause.

"Yes."

"You like my brother!"

"Attracted to. It hasn't been long enough for me to like him, Lils."

"Nonsense. You're in denial."

"I don't think that would be a bad thing with your prat of a brother."

"Hey!"

"I speak the truth."

"No, you don't. You like him."

"I don't think he likes me, so what does it matter?"

"I do."

"However would you think that? He called me a coward today!"

"Because he has no patience for people not standing up for themselves. He wouldn't even bother telling you that if he didn't like you."

"And he's in all of my classes. Like, Professor Longbottom and Professor Gold made him partner up with me, and I had to sit by him in History of Magic. And he didn't look happy in any of those instances!"

"Go on."

"And he's, he's known for being standoffish and rude and all of that, no offense Lily. And he's not at all my type, I mean, I didn't even have a type up until now. And maybe it's just because he defended me or something. I don't even know why I like him!"

"I do. I've listened to enough girls to know why, Annalea."

"Then tell me why, Lily Potter, because I sure as hell don't know!"

"Stop overdramatizing. There are worse things than liking Al. You like him because he handsome and smart and can play Quidditch. You like him because he makes you think hard, and because he's hard to figure out. You like him more than all of the other girls like him combined."

I eye her in disbelief. "We're not discussing this any further, Lily."

"Fine."

We reach the end of the tunnel soon, and Lily climbs up first. We soon make our way noiselessly out of the darkness of the cellar and into the main hustle-bustle of an afternoon in Honeydukes.

We make our way past an older wizard buying chocolate truffles and into the busy street of Hogsmeade, thick with people who'd just left work.

Lily pulls me into Gladrags Wizardwear, and we make our way past their infamous socks to find the owner.

"Afternoon, Miss Potter!" The lady who we had been looking for said, popping out from behind a tall counter. "How may I help you today?"

I supposed that being famous meant that you could leave school whenever you liked and the no one would bat an eyelash.

"My friend Annalea needs longer skirts," she said. "Can you help her?"

"Certainly," the lady smiles at me warmly. "Right this way, dear."

She fits me for my new skirts while Lily browses the store, walking past "unique" displays and pulling out numerous articles of more conservative clothing for me to try on when the owner finishes altering the skirts I want.

"Why would I ever need any of these dress robes Lily? I don't go to dances anyways!"

"You do! You're going to the Halloween Ball!"

"In costume? No one would ever want to go with me anyways!"

"Yes, they would! You just won't give anybody else a chance."

"All done, dear," the shopkeeper says, interrupting my retort. "How many like these did you want?"

"Two more, please."

"Alright. You can browse while I finish these up."

Lily then proceeds to shove me into a dressing room, pressing a royal blue set of dress robes at me.

I pulled it on. "Lily! Whatever were you thinking?"

"Let me see."

I open the door and Lily falls about laughing.

She's picked out a super-short dress that barely comes past my butt, and is extremely tight fitting. Embroidered on the front is a broomstick and a snitch.

"You can wear it for tryouts tomorrow!" She giggles.

"I look like some sort of slag!"

"My brothers would put you on the team for sure, though!"

"Lily Potter!"

I refuse to let her pick out anything else for me, and I browse the store while she tries on dress robes.

I knew that she would make me go to the Ball, and I actually kind of wanted to go, so I looked around for something to wear.

A half an hour later, I'd finished finding my Halloween costume and went to go and try it on.

It all fit wonderfully. I'd chosen a Rebel theme, and had found a pleated, black leather miniskirt, knee-high, lace topped black tights, a pair of blood red, torn and tattered high top sneakers, and a tattered red shirt with 'BITE ME' embossed in silver lettering written on it.

By the time I'd finished, my skirts had been done for a long time. I thanked the lady, paid for my purchases and found Lily outside the shop.

"You took forever, Annalea."

"So sorry, your Majesty."

She smacked my arm. "Stop that. Where do you want to go next?"

"Let's go to Spintwitches," I suggested. "Tryouts are tomorrow, after all."

"You and the boys and your Quidditch," she shakes her head and frowns, but follows me into the shop anyway.

"Don't judge me!" I shoot back playfully. "You have to love Quidditch!"

"I don't."

I mock-glared at her before stepping into the shop.

I nearly sighed in ecstasy when we entered. There were bookshelves full of books solely on Quidditch, every big league team, statistics, strategies. The other wall held polished walnut chests, containing complete sets of the regulation standard Quaffles, Bludgers, and a solid gold, golden snitch.

In the middle there were complete sets of uniforms, complete with gloves in and goggles in customizable colors.

But the far wall captured my attention.

"Broomsticks," I breathed. "Aren't they beautiful, Lily?"

I fingered the new Firebolt Series XIV, First Class. It was the single sleekest, most powerful broomstick that I'd ever laid eyes upon.

The shopkeeper walked up to us, eying my wandering hand. "Anything in particular today, ladies?"

"How much on the Firebolt?" Lily, to my great surprise, asks.

"It's quite a bit, young lady," he smiles condescendingly, obviously unaware of who he's talking to.

"A number, please, sir."

"Ten thousand galleons. Top of the line, just released."

"Any of them off the shelf?"

"We have one in the back, Miss..."

"Potter, sir."

"Potter," his eyes widen in recognition. "I'll be right back with that."

He comes back very quickly, holding a sturdy looking silver box.

Sliding out the broomstick, he explains it's features.

"Maximum speed is 300 kilometers per hour, not that I would ever recommend flying that fast. The entire package has a 100% money back guarantee and is currently being used by the Holyhead Harpies for their entire team. The tail feathers are hand clipped, thrice examined, and securely placed on the broom with a special spell that is virtually unknown. The entire broomstick is completely streamlined, designed to be as light as possible and to hold as much weight as possible, not that I think that would be a problem. It includes a Specialty Service Kit, only available with the Firebolt, as well as a GPS and compass. Acceleration is best in class, as well as direction changes. You should see this broom do a hairpin turn!"

Lily interrupts his words. "Do you do engravings?"

He nods. "We cut into the wood, not enough to hurt it, but just enough so that we can pour the color in and gloss over it."

"I'll take the broom," she says, "Can you take a cheque? I don't just carry around that much money."

"Absolutely," he says, beaming at his unexpected sale.

He produces the receipt and Lily signs off a Gringotts cheque.

"Would you like the engraving, Miss Potter?"

"Yes, please. Engrave it with Annalea Trotsky, and take care with it. A calligraphy-like print will do wonderfully." She says all of this in such a calm voice, I don't catch what she means until it hits me.

I was getting a new broomstick.

He nods, and we exit the shop with a promise to return later, while I'm still freaking out.

As soon as we walk out, I round on Lily. "A broomstick? Are you serious, Lils?"

She nods. "What are you flying now?"

"Nothing fancy. It's just a Nimbus 3200. Didn't need any fancy competition broom."

"Well, now you do."

"First of all, we don't even know if I'm going to make the team, and second of all, Lily, I know that you're rich, but you can't just spend money like that. You've barely known me a day!"

"And I know that you're a good person in need of a great broomstick. Don't sweat it. My parents will understand."

"Lily," I look her square in the eye. "I know that buying a broom like that is knuts to you, pun intended, but I really don't want you to think that I'm just here to mooch off of you. That was never my intent."

Her expression softens. "I know that, Anna. That's why I chose to buy you the broom. You were drooling over it. Besides," a gleam enters her eyes, "how better to prove to my brothers that you know Quidditch than the best broom on the market and skills to match?"

"You've never even seen me play."

"I know a Quidditch star when I see one. Your form, your attitude, your reflexes, they all scream Quidditch. Trust me."

"Well..."

She cuts me off yet again. "Let's go to the Three Broomsticks. It's cold out."

I nod and follow her. We walk to the pub, stepping into the warmth. We sit down at the counter, and Madame Rosmerta smiles at us. "Butterbeers?"

"Two, please," Lily says.

I set down my purchases and turned to Lily. "It's so weird, though. He's in my Herbology, History and DADA classes. It's insane!"

Madame Rosmerta brings us our bottles of butterbeer, and I smile at her. Lily turns to me, swiveling on her own stool. "A bit weird, yeah."

We sip at our drinks, "How was the first day for you, Lils?"

"It was alright. It's really annoying how I have this enormous family, and I'm the only one in fifth year though."

"You're fine," I reply, "You're only a year's difference either way."

We continue to talk aimlessly until I look at my watch and realize that an hour has past. "How about we go back to Spintwitches? The broom should be finished."

Lily grins. "Gosh, Annalea. It's your broom, not the broom. Learn to take a gift."

"Yeah, well," I stammer. "I haven't gotten you anything."

She rolls her eyes, "Here." She hands me the check for our drinks, "You can treat me, and I'll treat you to that Firebolt thingamajigger."

I laugh at her. "'The Firebolt thingamajigger'? Your brothers would faint from the shock of hearing that kind of terminology."

"Oh, do shut up," she says, laughing along with me. "Let's go."

The bell jingles when walk into the Quidditch shop, and the man we talked to earlier hurried out from behind the counter.

"Miss Potter!"

"Is the broom finished?"

"Yes, and my best work, too."

He pulls the broom out from the box and we peek at the engraving.

It is masterfully done. My name, Annalea Trotsky, swoops and swivels in a shimmery gold, the light glinting off of it.

"It's beautiful!" I exclaim. "Can we take it now?"

"Indeed." He puts it back into the box for us and hands it to me. "Have a good night."

"Thank you so much," I say.

"Thank you," he calls as we leave the shop.

After stopping by Honeydukes to buy our sweets, we sneak into the cellar and head up to the school.

By the time we got back to the dorms, dinner is almost over. Lily went down to dinner, but I elected to go to the library; being the first day back, no one would be in there, and I wanted to be alone and well away from Albus Severus Potter.

Pulling the book that I bought at Spintwitches out of my robes pockets, I settled down in the back of the library. I sat on the stone floor, bunched my cloak across my lap, and dove eagerly into The Best Quidditch Players of the Decade by Samuel Wimbledon.

And before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

* * *

**Who got da Nimbus? She got the Nimbus :)**


	4. Hiding

**Okay! Thanks to everyone who's followed this story..it makes me happy! Enjoy your chapter!**

* * *

I woke up in the deserted library. It was lit only by the moon, and the bookshelves cast imposing shadows in the freezing cold of the night.

I shivered, wishing that I was in my warm bed.

Standing up, I gathered my cloak around me, putting my half-open book into my pocket. My halted steps made clicking sounds on the floor, and I crept about the library, head turning in fear of a teacher seeing me often.

A half an hour later, I came to the astute and accurate conclusion that I was indeed lost. Astute? Me? Right.

I paced the empty corridor, whispering out loud to myself.

"I just need to get some sleep! How did I get lost trying to get to my own dorm?"

All of a sudden, a doorknob appeared in the wall.

After a slight hesitation, I yanked open the door.

Inside was a large king-sized bed, covered in plush red and gold bed dressings. On one side was a roaring fireplace, and on the other was a plush armchair surrounded by bookshelves.

I walked into the room and cautiously set down my cloak, wand out. While this was Hogwarts, it could be something as dastardly as the Chamber of Secrets.

"Specialis Revelio," I said. Nothing happened.

Shrugging, I walked over to the bed. I pulled off most of my uniform, leaving only my white shirt to sleep in. With a small sigh, I laid down on the bed and fell asleep again.

The next morning I woke up early, with the sky just starting to turn blue with the light of day. I sighed, pulling on my rumpled clothing and walking out of the mysterious room.

I finally made up to Gryffindor Tower, finding the entrance to the stairway that led up to my dorm. I trudged upwards, finally opening the door to my dorm.

Lily pounced at me. "Annalea! Why didn't you come back last night?"

"I fell asleep in the library, and then I woke up and found this room and went back to sleep. It was weird."

"Well, we were looking for you on the map and-"

"Hold on. First of all 'we'? Second of all, what map?"

"Well, when you didn't come back, I had to go and ask James for the Marauder's Map. It was my grandfather's originally, and it basically shows where everything and everyone in the school is. You were in the Room of Requirement."

"The room of what?"

"Requirement. It pops up whenever anyone needs it."

"Ah. Well, I'm going to change. I'll meet you downstairs, okay?"

"Don't get lost!" Lily laughs before running down the stairs, convinced that I was okay.

I changed quickly, wearing my new skirt and pulling my hair into a tidy French braid. Convinced that I looked decent, I ambled down the Great Hall, bookbag across my shoulder.

Lily waved at me from the middle of the Gryffindor table, and I smiled, walking over to sit down.

"Tryouts are today," James says when I sit, "What are you playing on?"

"A F-"

"A Nimbus 3200," Lily breaks in, glancing at me, eyes explaining that she hadn't told them yet.

"A Nimbus 3200? That broom's practically from the Stone Ages!"

"It's reliable," I defend, "And I know how to handle it, even if you don't. That's all old broomsticks need."

"I'll stick to my Nimbus 7600 then, how's that?" James' jovial mood doesn't falter and he just smiles cheekily at me.

"Just fine. I don't trust riffraff like you to know how to handle an older broomstick anyway."

"Be still my heart!" James cries, faux wounded look on his face, "Yet another insult!"

"And not the last," I mutter, smiling.

"It's not that weird," Lily says, "Albus," wink, "keeps a Comet 700 Series around, and that's even older than Annalea's Nimbus."

"But he's got the same broomstick as Viktor Krum! Remember how much Dad shelled out to get that beauty? It's better than mine!"

"The Silvershot? But that's because he's a Seeker."

"Chaser's more important!"

"Children," I warn jokingly.

Picking up the remnants of my toast, I stand. "I've got to get to Herbology. See you lot later."

They wave at me distractedly, still arguing.

And Lily said she didn't like Quidditch. Baloney.

I walked into the greenhouse, smiled at Professor Longbottom, and sat down. There were only ten minutes until class started anyway.

People slowly began to trickle in, and I sat nervously, waiting for Albus to walk into the room and further my intense embarrassment from the day before. The bell rang, and, to my relief, he didn't show.

"Today," Professor Longbottom starts, "We'll be working outside in the Forbidden Forest to find silverweed. Then tomorrow, you will all skin the silverweed, the scaly surface being what we need."

"I would like you all to remember that the forest isn't a friendly place. Be conscious, be courteous, and do not provoke any of the creatures there. If you get into trouble, send up red sparks. I'll hand you bags for the silverweed at the door, and then you are free to go."

When we finally got outside and had walked the short distance to the Forest, I split away from the rest of the group, already having a hunch at where the plant might be.

There was a reason silverweed only grew in the Forbidden Forest. It liked the darkest, coldest areas, making it very difficult to find. Then you actually had to acquire it, as it wrapped itself around you, making you lose circulation and possibly even choke to death in serious cases.

I walked quickly through the barely lit forest. "Lumos." The path in front of me was the only thing that I could see, and tripping awkwardly past dangerous purple grasses and acid rocks, I finally made it to the middle of the forest, the darkest part where the worst beasts roamed.

Seeing the silverweed, I quickly swooped down and muttered a simple freezing charm that would allow me to retrieve the plant. It fell limp, scaly form shimmering under the dim light that my wand produced in the consuming pitch black of the forest.

Collecting the silverweed with careful plucks, avoiding dislodging the fish-like scales, I had almost filled my bag when I heard the first noise.

It was a slight jingling sound, barely there. I ignored it, instead packing up what was left of my materials, quickening my pace as the jingling got louder.

I stuffed my bag rather carelessly into my cloak pocket, I spun around to face the intruding sound, which got louder by the second.

Finally, I heard the hissing sounds. Steadying my grip on my wand, I glanced around quickly, pulse quickening and breaths coming short and fast.

They emerged rather suddenly. I cursed under my breath, "Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts."

The elderly half-giant, now a war hero and still a terrible professor, hadn't lost his love of dangerous creatures with his old age. If anything, it had only intensified to greater heights. The bells I had heard earlier were tied with bright ribbons around the skrewts' necks only served to prove this fact.

There were around a half-dozen of them, all at least twenty feet long and still growing. I knew that they would not hesitate to attack me, they didn't have to fear Hagrid's wrath (or rather, his tears, I should say. The man was really too kind) if they killed me, rather than I them.

I couldn't kill them, and therefore, my plan would have to be retreat. The skrewts' thick armor would make them even more difficult to fend off than they already were, vicious beasts individually and even worse in groups.

All at once, the skrewts seemed to realize that I was there. Their beady eyes shot towards me, forked tongues flicking, taking me in and understanding that I didn't belong in the forest and was a threat. And then they struck.

"Impedimenta!" I was able to make contact with the first, but the spell only ricocheted off of it, serving to increase it's anger towards me.

Slithering towards me, it reared it's ugly head, striking me with the bulk of it. I flew backward, slipping on the dense underbrush and crying out as my hands were burnt by the grass, reddening with thick streams of angry red blood, tears thickening my vision.

"Confringo!" I cried, no longer caring whether or not these skrewts died or not.

I hit lucky. The spell skimmed the skrewt's stomach, and it burst into flames.

The beast's counterparts hissed at me, sensing their companion's swift demise. I didn't care, jumping up and running, injured hand holding my wand behind me, poised to defend myself further if necessary.

I ran faster, until finally, blessedly, I came to Professor Longbottom, who took in my panicked expression and acid-holed, bleeding appearance with a quizzical, shocked expression.

"Miss Trotsky?" He asked, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"I ran into Professor Hagrid's Blast Ended Skrewts, Professor," I gasped out. "There were six of them. I think that I killed one."

"Thank Merlin that you're alright then, Miss Trotsky. I will be sure to inform Professor Hagrid of his creatures', erm, behavior. Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Put your things away in the greenhouse, then, and go there."

"Yes, sir."

I walked the distance up to the greenhouse, depositing my bag with the tips of my fingers, hissing at the pain. Back to see Madame Pomfrey yet again, I thought wryly to myself, what else was new?

I was almost out the doors of the greenhouse when I saw Albus, hair mussed, tie askew, running towards the building, looking frantic.

He'd obviously overslept, and no one was here to tell him that the rest of the class was in the forest. That was, besides me.

Me. I froze in place, realizing that this meant that I would have to talk to him. And that just was not happening.

Frantic, I looked around for somewhere to hide, as he was too near for me to just leave. I scurried underneath a desk, draping a cloak over it to disguise my presence.

And I finished not a moment too soon. The door creaked open, and in my nervousness, I heard nothing but the sound of my heavy breathing, and the darkness that I was shrouded in. Stuck.

* * *

**Because I'm truly evil, there's a cliffie for you! However, next week is Thanksgiving Break, and that means more writing!**

**Your favorite fanfiction author ever,**

**Brenda. 3**


	5. Escaping to the Tryout

**Hola! Como estas, dear readers! Here's the much awaited chapter five!**

* * *

"Professor Longbottom?" I hear his voice, sounding distressed at his situation. "Is anyone in here?" Silence. "Just my luck," he eventually murmurs, sounding disgusted, "They chose today to go on a bloody field trip." Another pause. "I'll just stay here and wait for them, class is almost over anyways."

I almost cursed aloud. How was I supposed to escape now? My hands burned, and tears dripped down my face, clouding my eyes and thoughts.

I must have sat there for another quarter of an hour, listening to the scratching of a quill on parchment, not moving.

And then it came to me like a slap in the face. Why didn't I just cast a Disillusionment Charm? Feeling really, really stupid, I whispered the charm, and carefully scooted out from the backside of the table, taking care to go slowly and stay near the wall.

Albus didn't glance upwards, his eyes glued to the parchment in front of him, muttering to himself now and again, probably doing homework.

I tiptoed carefully towards the door, almost falling over as a blue-veined tree as it tries to wrap a branch around my leg.

I make it with no further incidents, fleeing as soon as I'm through it.

I finally reach the Hospital Wing another ten minutes later, because I had to fight the rush of students coming towards me and also avoid Albus, who almost sees me as he walks by with Lily. Only my quick reflexes let me jump behind a suit of armour without being detected.

Madame Pomfrey spares me no sympathy as she looks at my hands. "Why didn't you come to me earlier?"

"Um...I came as soon as I could, honestly." Which was the truth.

She shakes her head at me, summoning a small pot of thick, waxy salve to put on my hands, then wrapping them with layers of gauze until I am so mummified that I can barely move my fingers.

"Why can't I just take some kind of potion?"

"The plant that you fell on doesn't have a quick fix, Miss Trotsky, and maybe this will serve as a lesson to you," she says in her clipped, stern voice.

I almost retort that I hadn't meant to fall, but kept my mouth shut. I needed her help.

"You may go," she says, "come back right after classes, and we'll take off your bandages."

I nod and leave for History of Magic.

To no surprise of mine, the seat beside Potter is the only one that's empty.

I throw my things on the ground, scoot my chair as far away from Albus' as humanly possible while still sitting at my desk, and take notes, just as if he wasn't there.

Pulling out my only Quick-Quotes Quill with some difficulty, I finally manage to be able to take notes for the class. Then I sit there, hands placed awkwardly in my lap, waiting for the class to be over. I don't speak, and neither does Albus.

When the class is blessedly over, I shove my things into my bag awkwardly, and walk out. To my surprise, I hear my name being called from behind me.

I turn around slowly, even though I know that the voice I'd heard wasn't Albus'.

"Hi," says the Ravenclaw who'd caught me before. "You probably don't recognize me. I'm Scorpius, Scorpius Malfoy."

"Hi," I say, blushing. "I've heard your name before, but I just can't remember where."

He shrugs, "It's fine. Doesn't matter."

"Well," I say, "I'm Annalea. But then you knew that already."

We continue walking towards the direction of my next class, slower than the rest of the crowd.

"I did," he smiles, "and you seemed pretty interesting, so I thought that I'd talk to you. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," I say, "Did you get all the notes for Professor Binns' class? I was late," I look pointedly down at my hands.

"What happened to you?" He asks, sounding a little excited. I smiled to myself. Boys.

And just like that, we were off and chatting away. He was nice, and smart, and humble, and he was quickly becoming one of my friends.

By the time Defense Against the Dark Arts had rolled around, I was in a fantastic mood. No homework, notes borrowed, copied, and returned, and bandages almost off. Tryouts were fast approaching, but I was determined to not think about it.

Luckily, today's lesson was not a practical lesson. Professor Gold assigned us bookwork and notes, glaring at us with the strict instruction of not to talk.

I sat next to Albus again, and I ignored him. He ignored me.

The next hour passed quickly, and when Professor Gold finally dismissed us, I run up to the Hospital Wing to regain control of my hands.

After I am released with clear hands again, I run to find Lily. It was practice time.

I find her quickly enough. She's sitting in the dorm, pajamas on, listening to the radio and singing, fingering a small piece of parchment.

"What's up, Lils?"

She looks up at me with a smile. "Oh!" Her eyes light up, "James told me to remind you that tryouts are at 5 o'clock."

"It's only four now," I say, "I'm going to take the new broom out for a turn and get used to it."

"Don't let anyone see it," Lily winks, "We want to surprise them."

"Fine," I say. "I hope that I make it, Lily."

"You will," she says confidently. "Do you want help practicing? My dad bought me a broomstick ages ago, and I haven't flown it much. It would make him happy."

"That would be great, Lily."

We walk down to the Quidditch pitch in companionable silence, and I swing my broom, still wrapped, down onto the ground to unwrap it while Lily finds a Quaffle and a couple of Bludgers for us to use.

"Don't get knocked out before tryouts, Anna." She looks at me, waiting for my affirmation before releasing the black terrors.

I nod, "Let's do this."

Mounting the shiny broomstick, I shoot up into the sky, feeling the wind hit my face hard as I shoot upwards, holding the Quaffle that Lily has tossed me.

The next half an hour flew by like a blur. Even though I was holding back and conserving my strength for tryouts, the broom was still a wonder. It twisted, curved, shot forward at my slightest movement, as if it could read my thoughts. It stayed completely balanced under my weight, and it was almost like there was nothing underneath me and I was just floating on the clouds above my head.

Finally, Lily and I went down, put our brooms away, and sat in the stands, waiting for tryouts to begin.

"You're solid," she compliments me. "There isn't any logical reason why you wouldn't be picked for the team."

"If your brother doesn't hate me."

I've obviously confused Lily. "What do you mean, hate you?"

"Remember? Yesterday?"

"He doesn't hate you Annalea."

"Let's hope not then."

"He doesn't."

"Not arguing."

"About what?"

I turn around to see James grinning down at us, lazily holding a quivering snitch, beside him a dark faced Albus.

"Nothing," Lily chirps.

I look down at my feet, suddenly nervous.

"Ready, Annalea?" James asks, "You look a bit peaky."

"I'm fine," I answer his concerned voice, looking up. "It's been awhile since I've done something like this."

He smiles, "You'll be fine," and pats me on the shoulder.

Albus speaks for the first time, "James, we've got to get down. Fifteen minutes."

"Oh, alright, Al. You're too uptight."

Shaking his head, he gives Lily and I one last smile before they leave.

Neither Lily nor I speak as the stands start to fill up. Finally, James calls us all down, and it is time.

"Good luck, Anna," Lily says, "Blow them away." She clasps my hand, hands me my broom, still wrapped, and I head down.

There are about fifty of us total, and James starts speaking as soon as it's quiet.

"Okay," he says, smiling, "Welcome, you lot. Thank you all for coming to tryouts today. We," he gestures to Albus, "can't wait to get some of you on this team! And even if you don't make it, there's always next year! Hop to, then, give me five rounds around the pitch!"

I quickly unwrap my broomstick, mounting it, waiting for the whistle off.

It is immediately recognized for what it is-the best broomstick on the market. I ignore the stares of the rest of the people, even James' and Albus', and kick off quickly, gaining height.

I focus on my form, knowing that this is what we're doing this exercise for. I flatten my body to my broom, streamlining myself, legs gripping lightly near the end, hands adaptable in front of me. This part of the tryout would be a cakewalk.

Then he separated the Chasers from the rest. We would be going first, with the James, and Albus playing Keeper.

There were more Chasers than any other group, and the first round of eliminations starts with the ability to simply catch the Quaffle.

"Light throws, all of you," James says warningly, "No foul play."

After about five minutes of catching and returning, James eliminates about a quarter of the weakest links, and we go on to the next phase, which is how far and how accurately we can throw.

I do pretty well on the next part as well, and more people are eliminated.

The next thing we do is agility tests. Reflexes, which I also pass. Now the only people that are left are the best, and I'm still freaking out.

"Get over here," James calls, "Here's the real deal."

The gameplay is fierce. I manage to score two goals quickly, and then a Bludger comes out of nowhere, almost knocking me off of my broomstick. I dodge it quickly, almost dropping the ball in my hand from the surprise.

I fly up to Albus, who watches my movements with a look of intense concentration, eyes trained on my hands and away from my eyes, hovering around the center goal post.

I duck a second bludger, shooting the Quaffle through the very corner of the left goal post, to Albus' obvious frustration.

Fifteen minutes later, James calls us down, ready to pick the two new Chasers for this year. At this point, I am very confident, knowing that I had scored by far the most goals of all of the participants.

Albus and James stand side by side, looking at us once more with decisive eyes. The crowd watching leans in as well, as eager to know who'd been picked as we were.

"I would like to thank you all one last time before I announce who's on the team. If we could take you all, we would. There is quite a lot of talent here."

"And without any further ado, in no particular order, our first addition to this year's Quidditch team is...Freida Robins!"

The curly haired 7th year smiles, happy to have her spot on the team back. She steps up and shakes both of the boys' hands, grinning wildly.

"And the second is..." My breath caught, "Annalea Trotsky!"

I step forward as well. "And remember how you doubted me," I teased James.

"Never again," he vows, as the others walk away, looking disappointed, "but where did you get that broom? That's no Nimbus 3200!"

I laughed, "Go finish your tryout!"

* * *

**Leave me a review in the thingamadoo!**


End file.
